Jill Walker’s account of her morning routines starts off this critique. She showers, has coffee, and checks her email. These are the routines of millions of people as they rise and do their morning machinations. One email in particular is from a “friend”, Caroline. Caroline is holding up a shirt asking Walker if she likes it. From these starting descriptions it seems as if Walker is speaking about a relationship with a friend, but the reality is that she is involved in an interactive narrative, a drama, that is being played out in the digital sphere, but that has “real world” actions and emotions attached to the function of the digital piece.
Caroline is a character that a user/reader can develop a relationship with online. She has a boyfriend, and similar problems that we all have, like putting her foot in her mouth about saying something about a situation before she totally knows about the situation at hand (like if Walker had children, and making a comment about going on about children without knowing that Walker actually had a child).
The technology used in the “edrama” (as I’m calling it) is very much the same, as Walker notes, as the type of interface used by programs that track your online shopping habits and design advertisements specifically targeted to your habits. Only in the case of “Onlinecaroline”, the data collected seems to push the drama along. The reader has the illusion that she is participating in moving communications forward, and that, somehow, those communications are actually having an effect on Caroline and her own situation.
Discussion questions: Is it a bit off putting to think that a computer is tracking you for artistic purposes?
Is the relationship developed with Caroline mimicking the Eliza effect, or worse, showcasing the archetypal nature of relationships developed totally online (as in online dating or online communications with offices out of one’s geographical location?
Viewer and Viewed
In this section, Walker examines how Caroline interacts with her and how Caroline gives the illusion of learning about her too. Through Jill’s interactions with the site, Caroline tailors her responses to reflect things Jill has said or revealed. For example, Caroline remarks about Jill being a parent or notices when Jill goes to read David’s research.
However, this is just an illusion. To test how versatile Caroline’s response function is, Jill sets up a separate account under the name Jack and sets out to make him the complete opposite as her real personality. As Jill, she answers everything honestly. As Jack, she answers in every way that Jill would reject. When she examined the results, she noticed that there was very little difference in the actual responses, and the story would proceed the same regardless.
When Jill noted she had a daughter, Caroline’s response was: “There was me banging on about not liking children, and then discovering you’re already a parent. Ah well, you still came back for more.”
But when Jack said he had no children, the response was: “There was me banging on about children, when you don’t have any. Ah well, you still came back for more.”
So the system is limited in how it can respond to your ideas. However, to Walker, it still creates the illusion that Caroline is watching you at the same time that you are watching her.
Forced Movement
As an extension of the lack of varied responses, Walker notes the conceit of Online Caroline: “The program behind Online Caroline doesn’t just track my movements; it also makes me move.” Basically, the way the program is setup, a “reader” needs to open and look at everything provided, as well as make a few choices, before the story can progress. There are no shortcuts, and if you stop trying to read everything, then Caroline complains. Reinforced by the idea that her responses are generally the same no matter how you play, the system gives the illusion of free will and independent thought, but that it is what the story forces you to do is far more important to progress.
Simulations
Toward the end of the essay, Walker begins to understand the Online Caroline program as a “simulation,” which Lev Manowich defines: “A simulation is characterised by blurred boundaries between the viewer’s proximate space and the virtual space of the simulation, as well as by the scale being the same in both spaces.” In layman’s terms,the boundary between the reader and the text is perforated, so that the experience of text is shared. She goes on to contrast her idea of simulations and representations. Essentially:
--simulations=movement
--representations=immobility
Impotence and Guilt
Psychologically speaking, Walker develops a sense of sympathy for the machine. She cannot help Caroline, regardless of her digi-pleas and Walker’s supposed interaction with the game. She feels responsible for what happens to Caroline but has no real control over the narration. Though simulations make their audiences participants, there is an establishment of perceived control that really illustrates how the reader is being controlled by the text.
Because Caroline is designed to simulate a human, it is easy to see how Walker could anthropomorphize the program and develop an emotion toward the fictitious character. Though, if we really think about it, we do the same thing when reading page-bound texts. We often emote and empathize with characters in stories and poems. No one believes them to truly exist, but we find them a reasonable suppository for our psychological needs.
Discussion Questions
Is it a bit off putting to think that a computer is tracking you for artistic purposes?
Is the relationship developed with Caroline mimicking the Eliza effect, or worse, showcasing the archetypal nature of relationships developed totally online (as in online dating or online communications with offices out of one’s geographical location?
What is a game trying to do by giving the illusion of free will? What is the impact when the player realizes that his/her actions and responses have little impact on how the game is played?
Walker adopts Manowich’s definition of “simulation” and posits it within the realm of computational art, but how are other aspects of our lives relevant to similarly being labeled simulation? (Think of how we interact with family, students, teachers; are there “codes” we abide by in performance?) So does the computer establish the simulation or are we projecting our sense of simulation on a simulacrum of real life in programs?
Jeff Markovitz
Mark Thomas
How I Was Played by Online Caroline - Jill Walker
Jill Walker’s account of her morning routines starts off this critique. She showers, has coffee, and checks her email. These are the routines of millions of people as they rise and do their morning machinations. One email in particular is from a “friend”, Caroline. Caroline is holding up a shirt asking Walker if she likes it. From these starting descriptions it seems as if Walker is speaking about a relationship with a friend, but the reality is that she is involved in an interactive narrative, a drama, that is being played out in the digital sphere, but that has “real world” actions and emotions attached to the function of the digital piece.
Caroline is a character that a user/reader can develop a relationship with online. She has a boyfriend, and similar problems that we all have, like putting her foot in her mouth about saying something about a situation before she totally knows about the situation at hand (like if Walker had children, and making a comment about going on about children without knowing that Walker actually had a child).
The technology used in the “edrama” (as I’m calling it) is very much the same, as Walker notes, as the type of interface used by programs that track your online shopping habits and design advertisements specifically targeted to your habits. Only in the case of “Onlinecaroline”, the data collected seems to push the drama along. The reader has the illusion that she is participating in moving communications forward, and that, somehow, those communications are actually having an effect on Caroline and her own situation.
Discussion questions: Is it a bit off putting to think that a computer is tracking you for artistic purposes?
Is the relationship developed with Caroline mimicking the Eliza effect, or worse, showcasing the archetypal nature of relationships developed totally online (as in online dating or online communications with offices out of one’s geographical location?
Viewer and Viewed
In this section, Walker examines how Caroline interacts with her and how Caroline gives the illusion of learning about her too. Through Jill’s interactions with the site, Caroline tailors her responses to reflect things Jill has said or revealed. For example, Caroline remarks about Jill being a parent or notices when Jill goes to read David’s research.
However, this is just an illusion. To test how versatile Caroline’s response function is, Jill sets up a separate account under the name Jack and sets out to make him the complete opposite as her real personality. As Jill, she answers everything honestly. As Jack, she answers in every way that Jill would reject. When she examined the results, she noticed that there was very little difference in the actual responses, and the story would proceed the same regardless.
When Jill noted she had a daughter, Caroline’s response was: “There was me banging on about not liking children, and then discovering you’re already a parent. Ah well, you still came back for more.”
But when Jack said he had no children, the response was: “There was me banging on about children, when you don’t have any. Ah well, you still came back for more.”
So the system is limited in how it can respond to your ideas. However, to Walker, it still creates the illusion that Caroline is watching you at the same time that you are watching her.
Forced Movement
As an extension of the lack of varied responses, Walker notes the conceit of Online Caroline: “The program behind Online Caroline doesn’t just track my movements; it also makes me move.” Basically, the way the program is setup, a “reader” needs to open and look at everything provided, as well as make a few choices, before the story can progress. There are no shortcuts, and if you stop trying to read everything, then Caroline complains. Reinforced by the idea that her responses are generally the same no matter how you play, the system gives the illusion of free will and independent thought, but that it is what the story forces you to do is far more important to progress.
Simulations
Toward the end of the essay, Walker begins to understand the Online Caroline program as a “simulation,” which Lev Manowich defines: “A simulation is characterised by blurred boundaries between the viewer’s proximate space and the virtual space of the simulation, as well as by the scale being the same in both spaces.” In layman’s terms,the boundary between the reader and the text is perforated, so that the experience of text is shared. She goes on to contrast her idea of simulations and representations. Essentially:
--simulations=movement
--representations=immobility
Impotence and Guilt
Psychologically speaking, Walker develops a sense of sympathy for the machine. She cannot help Caroline, regardless of her digi-pleas and Walker’s supposed interaction with the game. She feels responsible for what happens to Caroline but has no real control over the narration. Though simulations make their audiences participants, there is an establishment of perceived control that really illustrates how the reader is being controlled by the text.
Because Caroline is designed to simulate a human, it is easy to see how Walker could anthropomorphize the program and develop an emotion toward the fictitious character. Though, if we really think about it, we do the same thing when reading page-bound texts. We often emote and empathize with characters in stories and poems. No one believes them to truly exist, but we find them a reasonable suppository for our psychological needs.
Discussion Questions